


you made me fall again (my friend)

by smoakoverwatch



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Single Parent AU, Slow Burn, Teacher AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10072802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoakoverwatch/pseuds/smoakoverwatch
Summary: They were best friends in college, until tragedy forced Felicity away from her dream and away from Oliver. Eight years later they meet again, and everything’s changed. Except their feelings.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Starting another multichapter even though I have one sitting untouched? Yeah. Sorry. But this idea has honestly been in my head for a few years so I wanted to give it a shot. I’m just kind of throwing this prologue out there to see what the response would be. Like a… pilot. 
> 
> This is /super/ loosely based off an old Bollywood movie if any plot elements start to look familiar lol. Title comes from The Weeknd (my second fic named after one of his songs) cause I would die for the album Starboy.
> 
> Keep in mind that the young Oliver and Felicity we see in this prologue aren’t exactly how they’ll be as we go on. 
> 
> Feedback is everything. Enjoy!

Felicity Smoak never liked clichés.

A huge chunk of her eighteen years wandered into cliché territory without her consent (daddy issues, isolated gifted kid with stunted social skills, the list goes on) so she made it a point to avoid it letting the next part of her life go on the same way.

Which is why she fights falling for her best friend for far too long.

Oliver Queen is many things. He’s charming. He’s funny. He’s borderline obnoxious at times. And he’s the biggest cliché Felicity let herself fall into.

They’d met during Felicity’s first year at MIT, after he walked into the coffee shop she worked at and began cursing loudly after he spilled a latte on his phone (the whole coffee shop thing, she realized in retrospect, was probably another cliché). When she walked over and offered to help him save his files, their friendship quickly started.

On paper, they probably shouldn’t work. The outgoing frat boy who cruised into Harvard on his last name and the sixteen year old goth who works herself thin with two jobs are, of course, on opposite ends of the spectrum.

But they do anyway.

* * *

When Oliver meets Felicity, he doesn’t think much of it.

But he finds himself drawn to that smile again and again.

And sometimes his legs would lead him to her coffee shop and he really wouldn’t fight it. And when his mouth would ask her to movies and dinner’s without asking his brain first, he didn’t question it.

Being Felicity’s friend is easy. She doesn’t make him feel like he needs to always try around her. She doesn’t need him to put on an act. She’s kind and she’s funny and she doesn’t take his shit, something he’s never really dealt with before.

Which is why, one Sunday morning where he wakes up annoyingly hungover and somewhere he shouldn’t be, his impulse is to call her.

“Hey, sorry, did I wake you?” he blurts out when she picks up on the third ring.

All she does is laugh. “Oliver it’s almost 1. I’ve been up for a while.”

He frowns and looks at his phone to confirm that it is, indeed, the afternoon.

He slept later than he thought.

“Oh. Great. Uh, do you want to get breakfast and laugh at my expense?”

She meets him at what will eventually become their booth at _Fran’s_ , and it takes her two minutes before she’s laughing over the waffles they ordered.

“You _ran_ out of there?”

He smiles sheepishly and shrugs. “I panicked.”

It only makes her laugh harder.

“You didn’t see how Samantha was looking at me, Felicity! She had this big smile on her face and I could tell what she was thinking and I just _had to_ get out of there.”

Felicity tries to reign her chuckles in. “Okay,” she takes a breath, a grin spreading across her features. “I shouldn’t laugh. That was a huge dick move, actually. Did you really need to run?”

He grumbles out, “Well I forgot my jacket and wallet there anyway, so I learned my lesson.”

The words make her choke out a laugh again, and the most adorable snort that sends red creeping up her cheeks.

Despite himself, Oliver starts laughing too.

* * *

 

Oliver can be a bit…. Much at times, but Felicity quickly realises by the end of her first year that she trusts him more than anyone.

It happens gradually over late night study sessions in his apartment where, after a certain hour, neither of them were motivated to do any work, and conversations drifted from classes and friends to family and life.

He tells her about how petrified he really is about failing his family. Of the weight of his father’s affairs that he’s silently carried for years.

She tells him about her own father walking out and never looking back once.

Somewhere in those late hours, during that time of night where nothing feels entirely real, as he lounged on his desk chair and she sprawled over his bed, they found comfort in trusting each other.

* * *

Their first real fight ends up being about her father, of all things.

It’s Felicity’s own fault, really, for answering her mother’s phone call right before she’s set to meet Oliver.

And there’s really no way for her to recover from the way her face drops after her mother gasps into the speaker that, “Your father’s back, Felicity, he came back to see me today.”

And maybe it’s a bad idea to keep walking when she should have sat down.

But her mom is talking a mile a minute in her ear, and Felicity can only catch some of it.

“ _Came back… apologized… wants to be a part of your life… not well… not much time left… always regretted leaving…”_

It’s a lot to process.

So when Oliver meets her at their standard lunch spot, she still hasn’t pulled herself together and he can tell.

“Hey,” he greets casually, as she sits down, his eyebrows furrowing when he takes in her own frown. “Everything okay?”

She snaps out of the daze that led her from her own dorm to him, and shakes her head slightly. “Yeah, uh, everything’s fine. It’s just… my mom called me. Apparently my …. Dad stopped by earlier.” She pauses on the title that feels so unfamiliar on her tongue.

At her words, Oliver’s face quickly morphs from one of concern to what Felicity can best describe as disgust.

“What did he want?” he asks tightly.

“My mom said that he apologized for leaving.” She gulps, and stupidly her voice felt smaller looking at Oliver’s rising ire. “He said he was sorry for walking out of our lives but he wants to be back now.”

Oliver isn’t impressed. “After all this time? What brought it on?”

She knows her next words won’t help.

“He’s not well, Oliver. He has stage four liver cancer and said he wanted to make amends.” She punctuates it with a small shrug.

“So he comes back more than ten years later when he’s about to _die_ ‘cause he suddenly feels bad?”

“Watch it, Oliver,” she keeps her voice low even though her own annoyance is rising now.

“And then what?” he continues, “your mom is just okay with this? She’s forgiven him like nothing happened?”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to judge when it comes to what our parents forgive each other for, Oliver,” she bites back. It’s below the belt, she knows it, but the words spit out of her mouth without her control.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole here, Felicity, I’m worried. I don’t want you to get hurt again.” It would be a half apology that Felicity could accept, if the words didn’t come out through clenched teeth. 

“Could have fooled me Oliver, because right now you just seem like a judgemental asshole.” She runs a hand through her hair tiredly as she turns away from him. “Look, I’m really tired and I don’t want to fight. I’ll see you later.”

“Felicity,” he says, reaching a hand out, but she’s already pushing the plastic chair back and averting her eyes so he doesn’t see the tears that have gathered there.

* * *

It takes him twelve hours after their fight to show up at her doorstep.

And maybe showing up at midnight on a Sunday isn’t the best idea, but the guilt from their conversation picked at his insides all day and he knew he would have no hope of sleeping until he fixed this.

When she opens the door, his guilt only grows when he sees her eyes are rimmed red.

“Oliver,” she says tiredly, “what are you doing here? You have an exam in the morning, I know this because I helped you study and –“

“I was out of line.” He blurts out. She pauses in the middle of her rant, her mouth hanging open. “I had no right to get angry at you for that. It isn’t my place. I’m sorry”

All Felicity does is nod.

“And while I was trying to figure out a way to apologize to you, I realized I didn’t even ask if you were okay. Are you okay? This is a lot to process.”

Her lips turn up. “Sure I am.” She waves a hand dismissively. “Doesn’t everyone have their long lost father come back with terminal illness?”

He turns his head to the side. “Felicity, you don’t have to do that. You don’t need to make jokes about it. Not with me. You know that, right?”

Her eyes start to shine at his words, and she opens the door wider and jerks her head, inviting him in. “I know.”

* * *

She’s in love with him, she realizes.

He’s exasperating and chases women in front of her face and externally he’s everything she would hate in another human being, but she knows him inside and out, his best and worst, his kind heart, and she’s in love with him.

But she knows him well enough to know that she can never tell him.

* * *

It’s a phone call from home that brings them apart the first time. The last time, it’s no different.

All Donna has to say is six words before Felicity is packing her bags to go home.

“Felicity, it looks like this is it.”

* * *

 

He finds her fumbling over a check in kiosk at the airport. Relief that he’s caught her before she left is quickly replaced at the painful realization that she really would have gone back home without a proper goodbye. He thanks all his lucky stars that he managed to get a hold of her roommate when Felicity wouldn’t answer her calls.

When she turns to see him walking towards her with a fire under his toes, she sighs and it almost makes him pause. The closer he gets, the more he realizes how worn out Felicity really looks. Her dark hair is pulled back in a sloppy pile over her head. Dark circles lined the underside of her eyes. When he stops in front of her, he can see that her eyes are rimmed red. Every detail on her face that displays her grief only makes his chest feel heavier.

“Oliver,” she says, her voice coated with the same exhaustion her face suggested.

“Were you really going to leave without saying anything?” Beyond his control the words comes out lower. It’s almost a growl. But seeing her _this close_ to leaving makes his anger set in.

“Don’t make a scene, Oliver,” she tries to keep her voice steady but stumbles on his name. “I have to do this.”

“Do you?” He challenges, “because to me it seems like you’re throwing your entire life away for this _piece of shit_ that’s done nothing but disappoint you your entire life.” She flinches when his voice starts to rise, so he pauses and takes a breath.

“Don’t,” her lips are pressed into a hard line. “Don’t pretend like you have _any idea,_ Oliver. I have to go back. If not for him, then for my mother. She’s going to need me after he…” her breath catches and she has to press her eyes together.

Once she gathers herself again, she continues with a stronger voice. ““ _After_ , there’s going to be a lot to handle. And his bills to pick up. So yes, Oliver, I’m going to go back because my mother needs me and unlike you we didn’t have _everything_ handed to us.”

He ignores the jab and pushes forward. ““So what’s the plan here, Felicity?” his voice falls low again to not draw any more attention to them, “you’re going to work the same way your mom does, the same way you swore to me you never would?”

Her eyes fill with tears as she shakes her head. “You can’t judge me for this, Oliver.”

“I’m not,” he tries to reign his temper in, “I’m not judging, but I just think you’ve worked too hard to get where you are only to let it all go. I know this isn’t the life you worked for, Felicity.”

She nods and smiles bitterly. “You don’t always get what you want, Oliver. It’s something I’ve come to terms with.” Her eyes glaze over, and she speaks as though she’s been rehearsing in her head. “Maybe one day, when things settle down, I’ll be able to go back and finish my degree. But for now my dreams will have to wait. You told me family is precious. Well right now, my family needs me.”

He clenches his jaw to keep responding. Pure, almost juvenile rage swirls around in his hurt and frustration as he watches the most deserving person he knows throw her dreams away.

But she’s so certain. All he can do is nod slowly.

“I have to go now,” she fiddles with her carry on awkwardly and musters up a half smile.

When he doesn’t respond immediately her face falls and she makes a move to leave. The action snaps him out of it.

“Felicity,” he whispers, “I don’t want this to be goodbye.”

She takes a step towards him, a bittersweet smile painted on to her face before tentatively lifting onto her toes and pulling her arms around her neck. “It doesn’t have to be,” she whispers.

As he lets her arms drop and walk away, Oliver feels lead settle into his stomach with the worry that it would be the last time he’s seeing Felicity Smoak.

And for eight long years, he’s right.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight years later, their paths cross again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. The little response my first chapter got is absolutely thrilling. 
> 
> This is a quick one, but that was intentional. And I was kind of in a good mood from recent spoilers. If you're still into this concept, gently bully me in the comments to write more.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (No beta, but I gave it a few careful reads. Excuse any mistakes pls)

The first day of school was never Felicity’s favourite thing.

Although she kind of hoped that it would have died out by adulthood.

She muses on this as she absentmindedly fiddles with the hem of her dress, standing in the colourfully decorated classroom – _her_ classroom, she supposes.

She doesn’t think her nerves are entirely unfounded, she thinks as she glances out the window and sees the line of uniforms. It’s her first day teaching, ever, and she’s not above admitting that she doesn’t quite know what she’s doing.

She knows there’s still plenty of time before the kids will come in, so she goes over the class list for the tenth time. It does nothing to ease her when she sees some of the big surnames – she can recognize two football player names and an actor – on the thick cardstock under the (admittedly pretentious) blue crest.

Everything she touches, it seems, just seem to be small reminders of how unfit she is to be standing in North Starling Montessori.

It’s not that she hasn’t worked hard, god knows she has, but it’s hard not to ignore the constant nagging in her head that is screaming out and telling her that she’s not standing here entirely on her own merit.

She takes a deep breath and pushes those thoughts aside – it’s not the time to go down that path again. The important thing is that she’s here and she’s not going to ruin it.

Yes, she may be in a new city where she knows exactly three people and yes, she may feel completely out of place where she stands but _damn it_ she’s Felicity Smoak and she can do this.

(Or at least, that’s the idea she picked up after spending two hours on the phone with her mother the night before)

Another teacher – who’s introduced herself before, she’s just too embarrassed to ask again -- passes by and catches her in the middle of her anxious pacing. She pops her head in with a knowing look. “Nervous?”

Felicity stops in the middle of the carpet and gives a guilty smile. “Is it obvious?”

The other teacher – something West, Felicity is like half sure – chuckles. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” She gives Felicity a quick look and drops her voice to a whisper, “but don’t let them smell your fear.”

The smile that made it’s way on Felicity’s face drops at her words, and the other woman – Iris! – laughs again before going back down the hall.

Well… at least she’s made a friend on the first day.

Eventually, after she’s rearranged the bookshelf three more times (alphabet just makes more sense than genre or color, what was she thinking?), the kids start to file in. File, not run, like she remembered from her own childhood, another reminder of how out of her league she is.

But when they look at her and don’t immediately start throwing things at her for being out of place, she feels the nerves dissipate and her smile grow as she welcomes the group in front of her – her students.

This new start won’t be so bad after all.

* * *

He’s late.

_Crap._

He promised he wouldn’t be late.

Although, in his defense, he was all set to leave until his father stopped him on the way out of the office with a “debrief” (see also: picking apart everything down to Oliver’s posture) of their afternoon meeting.

But now it’s past five and he knows he has to fight traffic to beat the school’s policy.

He runs all the way until he reaches the halls when it slows to a fast walk – something about being in the school you grew up in brings back the old habits – until he reaches the set of chairs outside the main office. There he’s met with the same glowering expression that’s waited in this spot more times than Oliver is proud to admit.

“Hey, bud,” Oliver says with a weak smile.

He’s met with a glare.

“You’re late,” he says.

“I know.” Oliver grimaces. “I’m sorry.”

“You said you wouldn’t be late this year.” He says with a roll of his eyes as he pushes off the chair.

“I did,” he puts a hand on his son’s shoulder, “but something came up. I’m sorry, William.”

William isn’t impressed. “It’s the first day. Every other parent meets the teachers on the first day, you know.”

 _And, there it is,_ “Okay, great, let’s meet them. What’s their name?”

William’s glare only gets worse, if at all possible. “Mr. Regan already went home for the day.”

Yikes. Oliver’s losing father points by the minute here.

“Okay,” he gets on his knees to meet William’s eyes, “how about tomorrow I’ll drop you off instead of Aunt Thea and I’ll meet your teacher in the morning? And on the way home tonight you can pick what we have for dinner.”

William open’s his mouth -- presumably to throw him the _fine, whatever,_ that he usually does when he’s in a bad mood – when he looks over Oliver’s shoulder and breaks into a wide grin.

“Hey you,” a voice behind Oliver says cheerfully. “Looks like your dad made it after all.”

“Hey Ms. Smoak.” William says almost timidly.

Oliver pauses.

_Wait, what?_

He pushes off his knees and rises almost hesitantly, the sight he’s met with when he turns around damn near knocks the breath out of him.

It’s … her.

Gone is the inky black hair she once prided herself on, replaced instead by bright blonde wavy strands that fall onto her shoulders. Eyes that used to be rimmed thickly in black liner now sit bare behind a pair of glasses. She’s wearing a professional looking navy dress and her bright pink lips are turned up in a smile. She’s clutching a black designer bag and looks like she was on her way out herself.

She’s different, but somehow, she’s the same.

She’s Felicity.

When she meets his eyes, recognition dawns on her face and her mouth drops open.

She furrows her eyebrows for a second.

“Oliver Queen?”

He clears his throat – which inexplicably feels like it’s closing up.

“Felicity?” he forces a smile.

She nods, letting out a small chuckle. “Um,” she raises a hand awkwardly, “hi.”

“You…” he furrows his eyebrows. “You live in Starling?”

“I just moved here.”

“What brings you over?” He moves closer almost automatically.

“Well I ca—“

“Dad,” their conversation gets interrupted by the tired eight year old tugging on Oliver’s suit jacket. “Can we go home yet? I’m tired.”

An almost irrational part inside him cries, _but I just got her back,_ but Oliver shakes it off.

“Uh, sure bud, why don’t you go ahead I’ll catch up in a sec.”

He waits until William steps away a little, preferably out of ear shot (the kid talks – and if he hears what Oliver will say next he’s going to have to answer a _lot_ of questions from Thea).

“Felicity,” he hesitates and pulls out his phone. _Is he really doing this?_ “It’s been years, and I’d really love to catch up one of these days over coffee or something.”

She hesitates for a second. He can see the debate flicker in her eyes before she gives a smile. “Sure, Oliver, I’d like that too.”

She pulls out her phone to hand over to him when he does the same. Something catches in the light and Oliver’s hand freezes over hers.

Shining happily on Felicity’s finger sits a diamond ring, and suddenly it feels like lead has settled into Oliver’s stomach.

Felicity’s engaged.

The real question is: why does it bother Oliver so much?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> twitter - @smoakoverwatch  
> tumblr - overwatchandarrow


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This took a while partly because school got real hectic real fast… but also because writing purposefully awkward conversations that need to have a lot of exposition take time. Awkward or not, you get to learn a little bit about what these two were up to in their eight years apart so, yay for answers?
> 
> The response last time was so great! I didn’t expect the reaction to the whole engagement thing to be so strong but I’m glad it was, haha.
> 
> If there are errors, I apologize, but I wanted to post this because I know if I didn’t tonight I would sit on it for another two weeks.
> 
> Enjoy!

Oliver can’t kid himself for very long. He’s nervous.

The last time he felt this stomach achingly edgy was probably two years ago, the first time he ever got called into school for William’s behavior. As he sat in the principal’s chair, he felt like he was about to be declared a failure as a parent.

Now he sits in the booth of a coffee shop, eyes trained on the door and leg bouncing anxiously, he feels about the same as he did then.

He’s not quite sure what kind of failure he’ll be if he screws this one up, though.

When the door swings open and she walks in, he feels like every cliché  -- the heart racing, palms sweating -- in the book slaps him in the face.

The blonde hair is still something he needs to get used to – but it fits her so well. Her fuchsia stained lips are turned up into an excited grin that disappears when she tries to wave and drops her phone in the process.

Despite himself, he huffs out a laugh as she frowns and picks up her phone, petting the screen as if to apologize to the device.

He gets up automatically as she walks to the table and greets her with an embarrassingly high pitched “Hi.”

“Hey,” she responds brightly, pushing on her toes to and giving him a quick hug. He tries very hard not to focus on how her floral perfume washes over him “Sorry I’m late, I had a meeting after work that ran a bit long.” She rolls her eyes before settling into the booth.

He shakes his head, “don’t worry,” he gestures to the I.D. badge that hangs from his hip before joining her in his own seat, “I just came from work too.”

She frowns. “Your name is on the building and they still make you carry I.D?”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to show any favoritism.” It comes out more biting than he’d like, but she catches it.

“Of course.” She says with a wry grin. “So…?”

He raises and eyebrow. “So, what?”

She rolls her eyes. “ _So,_ Oliver, tell me everything!” she exclaims, gesturing to the air around him, “I’ve clearly missed a lot here.”

“Right.” He shifts uncomfortably. “I guess, after you left I didn’t get up to much, just finished school and moved back home. Started shadowing at the company like I planned. Now I work as a junior executive mostly with my father.” He punctuates it with an awkward shrug.

“And…” She hesitates, her previous excitement seemingly dissipated. Oliver knows what she wants to ask before she says the word “William?”

He takes a deep breath. He expected this, even rehearsed an answer in his head, but still feared that any way he framed it would make Felicity think less of him.

“William... I didn’t know about William until he was two and a half.” He absently picks at a napkin on the table. “I don’t know if you remember, it was a little bit before you… left. But I had been, er, with this girl Samantha Clayton.”

Felicity nods with a small nostalgic smile “I remember how she freaked you out so much you literally ran on her, yeah.”

He coughs awkwardly. “Well, turns out if I hadn’t run she would have been able to tell me that we hadn’t been… careful that night.”

Felicity catches on, her mouth dropping into a small O. He feels like the biggest ass on the planet.

“But you didn’t find out until, what, three years later?” she asks, masking her surprise easily.

“Samantha… Didn’t want me to know. Which is understandable. But she wasn’t doing well. Her parents had cut her off and she had trouble finishing school.” Felicity nodded sympathetically. “So, she tracked me down, and I helped her move down here, and for a while we had the co-parenting thing down.”

Felicity senses the unspoken end. “Until… something changed?”

Oliver looks down at the table then, clearing his throat awkwardly. He takes a few steadying breaths before a small, pink tipped hand comes into his vision and grabs his own gently.

“Hey,” Felicity says gently. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed. We can talk about something else if you’d like.”

He looks up at her then, worry etched into her features and runs a thumb over the hand covering his. “It was a drunk driver. William was at my parents’ house while I was at an event in Metropolis. When I flew back, she was –“ He cuts himself off with a regretful shake of his head and feels her squeeze his fingers gently. “It really changed my perspective. We were never any _thing_ after William, but I still cared for her. After that, I forced myself to grow up. I worked harder at QC to make sure my son will never want for anything. My parents and Thea still help sometimes, but I try not to rely on them anymore.”  

If Felicity’s eyes shine a bit under the light after his story, Oliver decides he’s imagining it. But he returns the small smile she gives him anyway. “So,” he taps the table awkwardly, “that’s plenty about me, I’ve clearly missed a lot in your life as well.” He gestures to her left hand, which sits on the table.

She looks down and with a surprised “Oh _!”_ pulls her other hand away from his to play with the diamond ring that sits there.

“Right, okay, my turn.” She pushes her hair behind her ear nervously. “Well… his name is Ray.” She gestures to the ring. “We met when I was in Vegas. After I… had to leave MIT, I moved back with my mom. I got a job so we could get through all of my dad’s expenses after his passing.”

“I’m sorry,” he cuts her off then, words he’s held onto for years start tumbling out, “I still remember what I had said about him that day, when you left, and I’ve felt terrible about it ever since. I’m sorry you lost him.”

She tilts her head and gives that small smile he’s growing to recognize again. “It’s okay, Oliver. Don’t let what you said all those years ago carry you around.”

And that, he realizes, is the failure he was so worried about before she walked through the door.

He clears his throat awkwardly and nods for her to continue. “Eventually I was able to go to community college, and worked part time to help my mom out.” A small smile spreads. “I met Ray about a year ago, he was in town for an IBM leadership conference and came into the restaurant I worked at. I noticed the badge he still had on and we got to talking.”

A strange feeling settles into his stomach, an unfamiliar sort of nausea creeping up his throat as he watches her shyly grin at her own story.

“We started dating for a while, but it was hard with him always travelling for his job. But somehow we just… made it work.” Another sweet smile. Oliver wonders if this coffee shop has any alcohol. “He proposed a few months ago, on our anniversary, and asked me to move to Starling City.”

“And, here you are.” He concludes.

“And here I am.” She repeats.

“Teaching, then? Is that what you went to school for?”

The smile she had on falters slightly as she shakes her head and looks down. “No, not exactly. I stuck with computer sciences but, uh, Ray actually helped me get the job so I can get settled.”

He senses something else under her words, but with the way she tugs at the end of her hair he knows he shouldn’t push to ask why an IT girl with no formal training is teaching third graders.

“I remember you said you wanted to go back to MIT one day, did you ever think…”

She shakes her head almost instantly. “No I don’t – I mean, I want to. And maybe one day I will, but I don’t see it happening in the near future. For now, I’m here. But I’m happy.”

He leans forward and offers gently, “Well, I’m glad you are. And that I got to see you again.”

“Me too, Oliver –“ her words are cut off by his phone buzzing on the table, five text messages from Thea rolling in and telling Oliver to get home. When he doesn’t answer right away, her face lights up the screen to indicate an incoming call that quickly gets cut off – Thea’s way of getting his attention.

He furrows his eyebrows. “Felicity, sorry, I think I have to get going.”

“Oh,” Felicity says, disappointment coloring her voice for only a minute before she looks at his phone. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he says absently while pushing out of his seat. “I’m glad we could catch up, though. Can we maybe… do this again some time?”

Felicity moves her head up and down quickly, blonde curls bounding on her shoulders as she does. “For sure, I’d love to.” She twists her engagement ring before getting up and giving him a quick hug.

Every bone in his body wants to linger there, for just one more minute, almost unsure of when he’ll see her again despite her promise. But he doesn’t instead forcing his heel to spin and walking out of the coffee shop with more force than necessary.

As he walks, he dials Thea’s number. “Thea, what is it, is everything okay? Is it William?”

“Hey, Ollie…” her voice floats uneasily through the speaker. “Don’t hate me for this. Everyone’s fine. I didn’t mean to freak you out but… uh,”

“Thea,” he grits out, “what?”

“It’s just that,” it comes out almost like a whine, “I didn’t _want_ to bother you, but you told you I had a date tonight and it’s kind of getting late and you said you would be back by now…”

He pulls the phone away from his ear to stare at it almost incredulously. Which he realized was ridiculous, given that she couldn’t see him right now. “ _Seriously,_ Speedy?” he rubs a hand over his eyes tiredly. “Okay, fine, I’m on my way.” He unlocks his door trying not to resent his sister too hard for pulling him away from his old friend.

He pulls the car out of the lot tiredly, wondering when he’ll be able to see Felicity Smoak again.

* * *

 

By the time Felicity comes home, the sky is already stretched in pink and orange. She should feel bad about missing dinner, but her conversation with Oliver leaves her buzzing.

When she pushes the door open, she follows the sound of the news playing from the TV to find her fiancé on the couch, takeout boxes and product designs spread over the coffee table.

“Hey,” she says as she sets her purse down.”

“Hh, hey hon.” Ray looks up in surprise. “Sorry, I got hungry and ordered food. Where were you?”

“Sorry I kept you waiting,” she frowns, “I went out to coffee with an old friend, remember?”

“Oh,” he furrows his eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you knew anyone in Starling.”

“Yeah,” she falls into the armchair and kicks her heels off, “We actually went to college together, but I ran into him when he was picking his son up from work.”

“College,” he stretches the word out as if to think, “oh! So one of your friends from Vegas.”

“No…” she pauses and furrows her eyebrows. “It was when I used to live in Boston, actually.”

He looks up from his notes quizzically. “Boston?” she raises an eyebrow. “Oh right. Anyway, I left you some food on the table, and someone called about an appointment for launch day while you were gone. I left a note by the phone.”

Right. Launch day was coming up. That’s why Ray had been distracted tonight.

“Okay, I’m just going to get changed real quick.”

She undresses tiredly, the effects of a long day at school yelling at kids who didn’t take her seriously finally catching up to her.

She takes her jewelry off on her dresser and opens the drawer, pausing when a red and white flyer catches her eye.

She runs a finger over the familiar logo on the old pamphlet, and the tears that came over the page with time, Oliver’s earlier words about going back to MIT floating through her head.

She’d be lying if she hadn’t thought about it multiple times in the past few years. But timing had never been on her side, so she chalked it up to a pipe dream.

She hears Ray calling her voice from the other room and slams the drawer shut, not letting herself linger on the thought for another minute.

 

* * *

 

It’s been a few days since Oliver met Felicity. The week crawled on after that, until Friday came and he got to drop William off at his grandparents per their weekend tradition.

According to Moira Queen – who desperately wanted more William’s – Oliver needed to still enjoy the youth he had.

Unfortunately for his mother, that kind of thing hadn’t interested Oliver for a long time. Instead, he heads to the bar and finds his once trainer and now best friend, John Diggle waiting for him.

Oliver likes nights with John. He’s easy to talk to. He doesn’t see him as much as he wants to since he had his little girl (who Oliver takes no shame in spoiling every chance he gets). But nights out together are rare.

Somewhere over the second beer, Oliver mentions seeing Felicity earlier that week.

“Who’s _Felicity_?” John interrupts him with a grin. He stretches the syllables of her name out almost suggestively.

Oliver ignores it. “We were best friends in college. I’ve mentioned her before, haven’t I?” John shakes his head. “She started teaching at William’s school and we ran into each other.”

“Hmm,” John is, like Moira Queen, always on a mission have Oliver ‘put himself out there.’ “Interesting. And how did that go?”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “Don’t start planning anything with my mother yet, John, she’s engaged.”

His friend ignores him, “actually, I remember you mentioning before now too. Super brilliant, always way too good for you?”

Oliver nods and tips his bottle back.

“My god, Oliver, you had feelings for her.”

 _What._ “Don’t be ridiculous John. I’ve barely said two words about her.”

“You didn’t need to.” The other man says smartly.

“Doesn’t matter anyway, it’s been eight years. We’re both clearly different people.” 

John shakes his head as if he knows not to push this subject further. “When can I meet her?”

Oliver snorts. “If I have it my way? Hopefully never.”

“I can change that.” John smirks. He drops the subject immediately after, but Oliver finds he can’t get Felicity Smoak out of his head for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really nervous about posting this because I feel like I need to explain things. But I can just hear my writer’s craft teacher from a few years ago reprimanding me on that, so I wont. If you have questions though I’ll answer them.  
> Thank you for reading! Next chapter will have more Felicity (ft Launch Day) because I feel like there hasn’t been nearly enough of her point of view!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello. I’m here. Launch Day. Ray is irritating, and then he's not (but don't worry, I didn't have fun writing the not-irritating moments, don't throw stones at me).
> 
> I finished my last exam literally yesterday so hopefully updates wont be so few and far between this summer.
> 
> Enjoy!

There’s a special kind of beauty in early mornings, Felicity supposes.

Everything is softer. Calmer. The usually busy street outside her apartment is quiet enough that she can make out a single person’s footsteps.

The air feels just a touch colder. The sky is stretched out in a cloudless pink.  

She even thinks she can hear a bird chirping.

All these little, beautiful things in the early morning are something she _can_ enjoy, _if_ she wasn’t being ripped out of her bed at an hour she usually sleeps through.

It’s Launch Day.

Launch Day means the launch of Palmer Tech’s first generation Smart Wearables line. It means that all the bold claims his marketing team has been doing about his watches being _different and revolutionary_ from the rest are going to be tested.

It’s essentially Ray’s make or break moment.

And for Felicity? It means a very, very long day.

She has to take a personal day from work, because the announcement is during the week. She has an _outfit change_ planned, because there’s the event and then the reception in the evening. She doesn’t need to be at the conference centre until 10, but wakes up at 6 for hair and makeup appointments (even though she’s told she’ll have to change the look completely before the evening).

By the time she’s got an artfully neutral makeup look and hair up in a neat ponytail (which she could have done herself), and is dressed in a pink blazer and black pencil skirt, she ends up running _late,_ somehow, and doesn’t have time to get coffee or breakfast.

All in all, Felicity’s not in the best mood.

At least she looks cute.

When she gets to the giant hall Ray’s announcement will be in, there’s still two hours ago and everyone is in a frenzy.

Hundreds of chairs line the room, with labels and designations for press and guests. Camera men are already setting up their equipment. The stage is being arranged, a screen that goes from wall to wall is black with the familiar white ‘P’ logo spinning in the centre. A few people are on the stage fussing over the podium set up and testing the lights.

Ray is… nowhere to be found.

Felicity does a circle around the room to look for him with no luck.

She realizes she knows none of the fifty employees he has in here.

Her mood worsens.

She wonders if she can bully one of his interns into doing a Starbucks run for her, but they all look pretty stressed out.

Nobody notices the blonde who’s walking around without purpose, it seems, so she finds a seat at the front labelled ‘Ray Palmer guest’ and texts her fiancé to let him know she’s here.

She sits alone for another twenty minutes, ignoring the way her stomach turns at the idea of being around so many people she doesn’t know. She feels like a kid in a new school, like she had one friend who decided to stay home sick.

She’s going to kill Ray.

She pushes the feeling down – she’s just cranky, she decides – and plays a game on her phone. At the sound “Felicity!” being called she breathes a sigh of relief and looks up, everything she wanted to say to Ray hangs on the tip of her tongue.

But she take one look at him and decides against it.

His eyes are wide, and his hair falls out of its usually neat look and hangs slightly over his eyes. He’s only half dressed, wearing black slacks with a t-shirt. He’s breathing a little heavily, which makes her think he might have ran here.

He presses a kiss to her cheek in greeting. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He says when he pulls back. “Have you been okay by yourself?”

Suddenly everything she wanted to say feels childish. So she forces a smile and nods. “I’m fine.”

Ray throws an arm around her shoulders and spins her in the direction of the stage. “So,” he says excitedly, “What do you think?”

She tries to colour her voice with as much enthusiasm as she can muster. “Looks great, Ray!” she turns to face him again, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Yes!” Ray claps his hands together excitedly. If it makes Felicity jump a little, he doesn’t notice. “I have to run through my speech, do you mind giving it a listen or two?”

Okay, it’s not the most exciting thing she can do, but in all fairness, she did ask. So, she nods and lets him climb the stage and play with the microphone system for ten minutes (but who’s counting?) before running through his speech.

And then it gets easy.

Ray slips easily into his best form. He speaks with confidence and clear passion as he explains all the details and specs, gesturing to a blank screen that would later throw up images on the fruits of his labor.

He’s captivating. She tells him that by the end of his speech when she finds herself clapping and attracting a few strange looks from some of the employees.

He sends her a bright smile and a thumbs up before his assistant flits forward and starts throwing questions that reporters might be asking.

The launch itself goes as perfectly as the rehearsal, Ray declares in the town car to the reception. Everyone gave their “oohs” and “aahs” at appropriate moments, the reporters didn’t ask him anything he didn’t already prepare for, and he feels great. Felicity’s responds in little nods as she leans her head back in her seat and resists the urge to rub her eyes tiredly.

She has to get changed, _again,_ as Ray’s publicist explains it would be terrible for her to be pictured in the same outfit twice. Her hair gets taken out of the ponytail its been in all day and let down into waves down her shoulders. Her glasses get swapped out for contacts, and the makeup artist laments that there isn’t enough time to change the look and gives her a deep pink lip instead. The dress she wears isn’t the most extravagant, but a strapless black fit and flare that she feels comfortable in.

She walks into the reception with her hand wound tightly around Ray’s arm, realizing belatedly that this is the first major event she’s attended for him and _wow_ she is nervous.

The reception hall is a modest sized ballroom with a gorgeous golf course as its view. A few reporters are hovering around, though not as many as before, and this time Felicity only has one photographer to worry about.

About seventy people, she estimates, are already mingling over drinks and hor d’oeuvres. No head immediately turns their way – though, she suspects that’ll change fast – and she feels some of her anxiety dissipate.

Almost immediately, someone excitedly cries “Mr. Palmer!” and moves towards them. She drops her hand as Ray greets someone she vaguely recognizes from the event as a member of the board. It isn’t long before Ray is swept up in meeting people and drifts to other parts of the hall.

And for the second time that day, she finds herself in a room full of people she doesn’t know.

She walks carefully in her gold heels, wondering if she should hunt down a waiter for a drink and hide her night out in the restrooms before a familiar voice calls out from behind her.

“Felicity?”

She turns at the sound raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Oliver?”

He walks towards her with an easy grin, an older woman trailing slightly behind him. “What are you doing here?”

She forces the hand that grips her dress tightly to loosen up and smiles. “I – um –“ she throws a hand over her shoulder. “Came with Ray.”

His eyes look behind her and recognition colors over him. “Ray Palmer is Ray your…”

“My fiancé,” she finishes for him, “yes.”

Oliver nods and rubs a hand over his jaw, and she thinks she can hear him mutter something to the effect of, _of course._

She feels an awkward silence falling over them, the older woman still watching her with an unreadable expression. “Uh, so, that’s me” she laughs uncomfortably, “What brings you here?”

“Queen Consolidated and Palmer Tech work closely together.” The woman answers. “Moira Queen.” She holds out a hand.

Oliver clears his throat. “Right, I’m sorry. Mother, this is Felicity, she’s a friend of mine from college. Felicity, my mother.”

Felicity shakes her hand and keeps her eyes on Oliver, who ducks his head uncomfortably. She tries very hard not to remember everything she heard about Moira Queen a lifetime ago and focus on her warm smile.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Felicity. Your fiancé has put on a wonderful event.” she looks between the two friends. “Now, I did just see someone I need to say hello to, but I’ll leave you to it.” She gives Oliver a pat on his chest before slipping off.

He smiles at her warmly. “She’s right, you guys did well with this.”

Felicity waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, I didn’t do much. Did I miss you at the announcement earlier?”

He shakes his head and looks almost apologetic. “No, I had a meeting today so I wasn’t able to make it. But if I had known you would be there maybe I would have tried to get out of it.” He gives a small smile that she returns. It would have been nice to have a familiar face with her.

A waiter passes by the pair at the perfect moment, and Felicity snags a much-needed flute of champagne and knocks it back with more force than is probably necessary. If Oliver notices, he doesn’t comment.

Instead he sips his own drink. “How’s work going?”

She moves the glass away from her lips. “Oh, just fine” she waves a hand. “it’d probably be better if, you know, every student in my class couldn’t see that I’m way out of my league and actually treated me like a serious authority figure but hey,” she laughs with little humor. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”

When Oliver’s forehead wrinkles at her words Felicity realizes she’s said a little too much to a _parent_ of her place of employment.

She screws her eyes shut for a moment and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m a little on edge today, I’m a little caffeine and food deprived.”

Oliver’s eyes spark and he points a finger. “Well we can’t have that. I remember how bad you’d get if we had to go somewhere before I gave you food or coffee.”

He gently takes her by the elbow and leads them towards an entrance, snagging a waiter on his way out holding a tray of hor d’oeuvres. He hands her spinach puffs and instructing her to eat up. “Stay close boss, this one needs to eat before she rips any small children’s head off.”  He tells the waiter. She pokes his chest playfully with an offended “ _hey_!”

The waiter, a kid who couldn’t be older than when Felicity met Oliver, looks between them uncomfortably and mumbles something about having a given section of the party and awkwardly slipping away.

“The job is fine, of course.” She continues, still feeling ashamed of her earlier outburst. “I was just venting. It’s an… adjustment, but I like it. I actually get to see William a few times,” Oliver eyes her warily and she misreads and speaks quickly. “He’s a really great kid, Oliver, honestly.” She tries to offer a small smile.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know,” he scoffs darkly and takes a sip of his bite of his own appetizer. “you’ve probably seen him more than I have this week. Work stuff has been… hectic.”

 _Ah._ So there lies the source of his frustration.

“Well, I can tell from the way he talks about you that he still has a very high opinion of his dad, so don’t feel too guilty.”

A fraction of the gloom that clouds over his features parts as he gives her a smile, and she counts it as a win.

He leads her back to the main area of the hall, one hand on the middle of her back and guides her to a spot by the bar. “I just realized this is your first party with the _Starling Elite_ ,” he says the words with a hint of irony, “isn’t it?”

She nods. “Besides you and Ray I know nobody here. You should catch me up to all the juicy drama.”

He chuckles. “I’d be pretty useless at that, though if my sister Thea were here she’d be able to tell you.”

“Oh come on,” she prods playfully, “you’re telling me you don’t know about any secret scandals? You gotta give me something, I’m bored to tears here.”

His eyes scan the crowd before lighting up. “Okay, see that guy in the gray suit and awful toupee near the window?” she nods, trying not to focus on how his voice drops and he moves his mouth closer to her ear. “That’s Mr. Wilcox, he work in QC. He’s going through a pretty nasty divorce right about now since his wife found him in the hot tub with one of his coworkers.”

She raises her eyebrow. “Okay.”

“Of course, poor Amanda didn’t _realize_ he was married, since she just started working with him. Now she’s pretty furious at him. Of course, they still have to work together. She’s here too,” he gestures with a finger to the other side of the room. “In the gray dress.”  Felicity’s eyes land on a woman glowering at Mr. Wilcox over her drink.

“She doesn’t look happy,” Felicity mutters. “Wanna make a bet?” she says as she eyes the two.

Oliver looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “What kind of bet you have in mind, Vegas?”

She ignores the nickname she hasn’t heard in years and pushes forward. “I bet Mr. Wilcox is going to try and talk to her in the next five minutes. Bonus if she throws a drink at him.”

“Oh, you’re on.” He says. “He’s completely non-confrontational and she’s not going to make a scene here.”

“Sure, Oliver.”

Exactly three and a half (but Felicity isn’t counting) minutes later, Mr. Wilcox has champagne dripping off the lapels of his suit and Amanda storms out of the room.

Felicity raises an eyebrow at Oliver. “You were saying.”

He chuckles. “Okay, maybe you’re better at this than I thought.”

“Hmm, I think you owe me a drink for that one.”

Oliver opens his mouth to respond, presumably with something smart, before he’s cut off.

“Felicity!” a voice chimes behind her.

She turns and finds Ray walking towards her with a bright grin. “There you are.” He grasps her hand gently.

Oliver clears his throat awkwardly. “Hello Ray,” he holds his hand out stiffly, which Ray shakes eagerly. “Congratulations on a great launch.”

“Oliver Queen! Thank you for keeping my fiancée company here. Mind if I steal her for a minute?”

Oliver tips his glass forward. “Not at all. I have to do a few more rounds anyway.” He says with a polite smile.

“Hey,” Felicity says gently, “don’t you go too far, you still owe me that drink.” And Oliver gives an unreadable expression before walking off.

“Ray?” Felicity furrows her eyebrows as he leads her to a quiet corner.

He’s looking at her with a frown. “Felicity I just…” he grasps her hand. “I wanted to apologize.”

Felicity’s eyebrows go up on their own accord. “Ray you don’t need to apologize for anything –“

“I do. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, that I’ve been preoccupied with the Launch stuff lately and threw you into all of this and barely even got to spend time with you today. Not to mention everything being crazy these past few months with the move and all.”

She smiles at him and tilts her head to the side. “Ray, it’s fine. I know you’ve been stressed.”

He pulls them closer together, whispering “Thank you.” Before pulling his lips over hers for a chaste kiss.

When he pulls back, Felicity makes the mistake of looking over his shoulder, catching Oliver’s eye for just a split second before he turns on his heel and exits the hall.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it even an Olicity fic if you don’t throw them in a fancy party situation? Didn’t think so. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, hello. Longish, ramble-y author’s note ahead.
> 
>   * I edited the tags of this after a comment someone made and have included an end chapter date which might not be exciting for you but is very exciting for me. We’re halfway there!
>   * In this chapter: there’s technically... limited Olicity interaction, which I realize is a weird stunt for me to be pulling given how much story is left. But sometimes conversations need to be had!
>   * Also - I wanted to write a thing most people in fandom ignore: that Felicity Smoak would be as good with children as y'know other people.
> 

> 
> Okay, too many words and someone mentioned people don’t read these anyway? I’ll stop  
> Enjoy!!!

When Felicity starts teaching, she comes home each day with slightly sore feet, an ever-present headache, and a string of gripes that she shares with Ray over a glass of wine.

It doesn’t take long until she realizes she sounds like a broken record every evening, and she doesn’t miss the way her fiancé’s eyes start to glaze over when she tells her stories.

And it’s fair, she would get sick of listening to anyone else complain about being sneezed on or the horrifying reality that eight year olds know how to swear after a while too.

But today is kind of a special headache on its own.

She’d been having a pretty good week, it seemed like the kids _finally,_ after three months of working, got on her side and _maybe even_ respect her.

She should have known they would have all waited until Friday to rain down some hell on her.

It starts during morning recess when she’s put on outside supervision duty and has to break up a fight between two older kids, which is enough of a challenge given that she’s barely mastered the art of third graders. When she manages to pull the two screaming preteen boys apart she realizes they’re fighting over a _girl_ (yes, really) she decides she needs a drink.

That’s exactly what she tells her only friend at North Starling, Iris West, during her prep period.

Iris, who has been lightly threatening Felicity for weeks about getting her out there and _showing her a good time,_ throws a mischievous grin and tells her to meet her at a bar she swears by.

The plans, it seems, come with a price.

By lunch, Felicity settles in with a salad at her desk and hopes to catch up on some of the tech articles that had been piling up in her alerts. Instead, an absolutely heartbreaking sight pulls her away from her plans.

Her name is Amelia. Felicity probably shouldn’t have favourites, but she has a soft spot for this girl. She’s a little on the quiet side but Felicity can see in her work she’s fairly brilliant, using silent reading time to read books that are advanced for her age.

It would probably be equally wrong to admit that Felicity looks at the brown pigtails and sees a little bit of herself in the young girl, so she won’t.

Her bias for this student, therefore, means that seeing her shyly hover by the door of the empty classroom with tears shining in her big brown eyes instantly makes Felicity _angry_.

“Ms. Smoak?” she croaks out hesitantly. “Can I talk to you about something.”

Felicity shoves her Tupperware lunch to the side and ignores the foreboding sense of Responsibility (yes, with a capital R) she can sense this situation calls for.

“Yeah, um, _yes,_ of course Amelia, come in.”

There’s a chair near Felicity’s desk that she drags over and gestures for the young student to sit in, trying to ignore the perspiration collecting on her palms.

 _Damn,_ this is her first real test as a teacher. And now she realizes why they have extensive training and she _hates_ that right now whatever is making this sweet girl cry is something she is prepared for, because shoving her to a guidance counsellor would just seem heartless.

Amelia sits in the chair with her head down and takes a few deep breaths before talking.

“It started a few weeks ago, so I didn’t think it was a big deal. It was just once or twice, and I thought they were joking, ‘cause I thought we were friends.”

Felicity fights the “who?” that sits on her tongue and folds her hands in her lap, reminding herself to be patient.

“But, then I started to see these pictures going around, ‘cause someone made an Instagram account under my name. It’s not me, but they post these pictures of me that are edited.” She pulls out a black cellphone from her pocket.

Felicity pushes down her immediate thought – _why do these children even have cellphones and social media problems oh my god –_ and looks at the screen Amelia is holding with shaky hands.

She lets Felicity scroll through the page as a sick feeling rises, and continues talking. “At first, you know, I thought if I just ignored it they would get bored and stop. But then they started adding people I know outside of school and saying they’re actually me but writing all these horrible things –“ the words tumble out faster and faster as she speaks, the tears that collected finally spilling over.

Felicity sets the phone down in her desk, her own neck starting to feel warm as the rage builds inside of her. “You know who did this.” She says evenly. It’s meant to come out as a more gentle question, not an angry statement.

Amelia nods and tells her the names of four students, two boys and girls in her own class. “The last picture was at a sleepover in my house. I didn’t think –“ Her voice cracks again and she stops herself and Felicity hands her the box of tissues that sits at her desk.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” she says with a small smile, “this is serious, it’s cyberbullying. We’re going to take this to the vice principal, you’re going to tell him what you told me, we’ll get these kids’ parents in here and we’ll sort this out. How does that sound?” 

She nods and pushes out of her chair, Felicity walking to the office finally feeling like she’s doing something right in this job.

* * *

 

It turns out, _sorting it out_ will take time. The other students are called to the vice principal’s office not long after, but no parent is able to arrive until the end of the day. Felicity has to carry on teaching the afternoon, ignoring the five empty seats that sit empty and the nagging feeling.

When the end of the day finally does roll around, Felicity jumps to lock her classroom and run to the office. In her head, she envisions the justice being served on those kids’ faces, the way their parents will yell at them for what they did and sweet Amelia’s tears drying up.

What she finds is very, very different.

One of the boys behind that account is named Justin Bowen. The surname of course means nothing to Felicity, but apparently, everything to the influential in Starling City. His father, a man with a designer suit and an ego complex, looms large in the parent-only meeting, speaking through a sneer about how Amelia likely made the whole thing up. His wife sits silently by his side but looks equally annoyed.

Amelia’s mother is a different story. And one that is all too familiar to Felicity. She sits alone with a bare ring finger and tired eyes. She wearily explains that no child would embarrass themselves this much for any gain but it falls on deaf ears.

Money and influence have a lot of power, Felicity’s not naïve enough to say this meeting is what makes her realize it. But seeing it affect a young girl and a single mother like this grates her insides.

All parties agree that, as it was Friday, the issue would have to be resolved after the weekend and set an appointment for early Monday morning.

Felicity walks to her car with nothing but the crushing realization that she’s truly accomplished nothing and the knowledge that Monday will be useless.

She sees Amelia and her mother walk out and shuffle into an older sedan and she can’t help but wonder what brought this young girl into the private school that relies more on names than the truth.

The weight of the day follows her all the way to her meetup with Iris later on, and she vents tiredly over a drink.

“It’s just -- it’s crazy.” She pushes the straw of her drink back and forth, her words coming out in a slight slur. “They’re just kids. How can they be _this nasty?_ And how can we, in good conscience, let this happen and ignore how possibly damaging this could be for Amelia later?”

It’s probably not the fun girls’ night out talk that Iris expected, but Felicity can’t help it. Somewhere between her first and second drink the words start tumbling out as all her frustrations come up for air.

“ _God,_ I wish you could have seen that smug stupid Mr. Bowen’s face. What an ass. His kid is like a miniature him too, I saw it today. I hate them all. God, I want to hack their stupid phones right now, give them a taste of their own medicine. Maybe Bowen’s bank account too.”

“Uh, Felicity?” Iris pulls her out of her rant with a concerned eyebrow raise.

“Sorry.” She sits up straighter. “It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah I can tell. Hacking?” Iris laughs. “That’s an oddly specific threat. Most of the time I just want to choke the parents I have meetings with.”

Felicity looks at her drink with guilt. “Yeah it’s… something I may or may not have some experience in.”

Her friend’s eyes widen. “ _What?_ You’re telling me you’re some _Mr. Robot_ hacker chick?”

Felicity shrugs with a smile. “I don’t do any of that anymore. Don’t make it sound so… _illegal._ But yes, I used to when I was in MIT.”

“Felicity Smoak.” Iris exclaims like she just told her a dirty little secret. “I feel like I just unlocked your backstory. Finally. MIT? You never mentioned that.”

The smile she’s wearing drops quickly. “Uh yeah, I did two years there but I had to leave for some personal reasons.”

“Oh.” Iris drops her own light tone. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s okay. It all worked out in the end,” she holds up her left hand, “otherwise I would have never met Ray.”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

The firm “no” almost comes out reflexively. But she pauses.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” She says honestly. She takes a sip of her drink. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. I actually get the admissions guide mailed to me every fall. And I start the application every year. I have it memorized. But I don’t… I don’t know.”

Iris gives her a shove. “Hello? What’s holding you back?” 

Suddenly her honesty doesn’t seem so smart. “I don’t know… it’s just never been the right time.”

Iris shakes her head. “Oh my god. Everything about you at work just became so unbelievably clear. Your heart isn’t in it.”

“Iris…”

“Okay, okay, I won’t push you. But I do think you should think about having a conversation with Ray if it means that much to you, and I think it does. And Ray loves you, so he’d understand.” She says simply. “And hey, if it works out maybe you can be in that fancy tech company _with him_ one day.”

She gestures to order another drink, and leaves the words hanging in the air.

When she turns back and sees the frown that’s landed on Felicity’s face, she furrows her eyebrows. “Did I say something wrong?”

Felicity forces a smile. “No, not at all. We’ve just…. Been talking about me a lot. You said you used to live in Central City?”

Iris’ smile returns as she easily launches into a story of how she ended up moving.

* * *

 

By the end of the night, Felicity feels lighter than she has in months. She exclaims this happily as her partner in crime leads her to a cab, but she doesn’t think the other woman heard, given that she’s loudly humming the chorus of an old pop song.

Being Iris’ friend is easy. And it feels good to have a friend in town that she didn’t meet through Ray. Well, of course except for –

“Oliver?”

And, _okay,_ it comes out much louder than intended, but that’s the fault of all the shots Iris ordered. But the word flies out when she sees the side of his familiar face at the bar, making quiet conversation with someone she can’t see.

He turns his head towards her instantly, a small smile gracing his features before pushing off the barstool and heading her way. Behind him a tall man she doesn’t recognize trails with a grin on his face.

“Felicity, hey.”

“Oliver Queen,” is she still talking loud? She thinks a head or two might have turned their way. _Sober up, Smoak._ “I haven’t seen you since you bailed on me at that reception.”

He flashes a guilty look. “Yeah. I’m really sorry about that. It’s just something came up and …”

“And…?”

“And I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have,” she sighs dramatically. “you know how bored I was without you? I had to people watch on my _own_ and it’s no fun when you don’t know all the juicy backstories. You still owe me something for winning that bet, you know.”

The corners of his mouth tick up. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you busy tomorrow?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. She doesn’t even stop to think about her schedule. “Not at all.”

“Great.” His smile grows wider. “I’ll pick you up at 10 then.” Iris tugs on her arm and gestures to the cab waiting with her chin and pulls the two out of their conversation.

With a nod in goodbye, Oliver follows his friend back to their seats at the bar.

Felicity doesn’t realize she’s smiling until Iris nudges her towards the door. It’s only until she settles in the cab that she shouts “Wait, 10 in the _morning?_ ”  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of felt like interest in this died down last chapter, please let me know if you're still here and enjoying this :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello. Thank you so much for all the nice words last chapter. 
> 
> Had a few complaints about the Ray Palmer of it all, which I totally get. This chapter, in my opinion, hopefully has some cute stuff to make it up to yall. 
> 
> Please be kind to this one, I’ve been having a bit of a Week. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Oliver asks her to find him at the same coffee shop they met at just a handful of weeks ago. He watches the door carefully, medium flat white in hand and a nervous feeling turning in his insides.

And just like before, when she walks through the door, her eyes immediately find him and her face splits into a grin.

She’s dressed more casually than he’s used to seeing from their previous encounters, hair tied and a knit sweater and leggings replacing her usual dresses.

“You know,” she says when she approaches him, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Starling winter. I’m a desert girl, this isn’t what I was made for.”

For a minute, it catches him. The words make him feel like he’s back a handful of years ago, on the other side of the country listening to Felicity complain as they walk to the library in the middle of a snowfall.

_“It’s just not natural, Oliver,”_ she’d whine. “ _It’s a hazard, honestly, I’m just looking out for all of our safety when I say they should cancel class.”_

_“It’s, like, two inches, max.”_ She’d wave him off. “ _The news called it a snowstorm though, and that doesn’t sound like anything good.”_

Though he’s strangely comforted by the knowledge that indeed some things never change, he forces himself out of the memory and rolls his eyes. “Good morning, Felicity.” he hands her the drink and she immediately takes an appreciative sip.

“You dragging me out of my bed when I’m slightly hungover? It better be good.” She sends what he knows is a mocking glare, but the anxiety returns.

“Right,” he rubs his hands together, “about that. There’s a _slight_ change of plan.”

She furrows her eyebrows in response. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he takes a breath, and the words tumble out “It’s just that – okay, usually William has swimming lessons on weekends, except this morning I got a call that it got cancelled and so –“

“Dad,” a voice chirps from behind him “They ran out of the brownies I like.”

“—So Will is going to be joining us today.” Oliver finishes.

Unlike his imagination – which at one point conjured the image of Felicity angrily dumping his drink and walking out – Felicity just smiles.

“Oliver, is that it? It’s not a big deal.” She shakes her head and waves down. “Hey William.”

Hanging half covered behind Oliver’s waist, William gives a shy smile and a wave in return.

“So, Queens, what is the big plan for today?” she gives a playful grin. “I have some high expectations if you had me get out of bed this early.”

“Well,” he twists his fingers uncomfortably. “I just figured that you’re still new to town, and there’s a lot you haven’t seen yet and I thought you would really like it so –“

His embarrassing ramble is mercifully cut off by his son. Again.

“We’re going to the Aquarium!”

In that moment, Oliver swears Felicity looks like she can be William’s age as she claps excitedly. “Sounds great.”

* * *

“Felicity!” William cries out, “Come check this out.”

Oliver can tell it’s still taking Felicity time to get used to – Will not calling her _Ms. Smoak_ like he’d be expected to at school. But they had a conversation about it in the line for tickets, when he’d wanted to ask her a question and stumbled uncomfortably trying to get her attention.

When the kid ran off to stare at a shark, Oliver asks her if that was okay.

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “I know he’d be able to distinguish the line and he’s not the type to call me that when we’re at school to cause trouble. He’s a good kid.” She gives his chest a pat, the _thanks to you_ is unspoken but turns his ears pink all the same.

This quickly found comfort between the three of them is what has William – despite all of Oliver’s protestations – running around the aquarium and loudly calling Felicity to follow him and answer all the questions he has. The kid has many, _many_ questions, but Felicity answers all of them with a patience Oliver only wishes he has some days.

Oliver’s perfectly fine trailing behind and watching the two. He can’t fight the way his heart feels like it’s going to spill out of him watching the two laugh as she gestures wildly to the jellyfish.

Honestly, Oliver’s not even sure what he was even worried about earlier. Felicity and Will have been getting along so well it’s almost as if he isn’t there at certain moments.

It feels so natural, so _right_ a dangerous part of his brain longs for all his weekends to be spent like this. But then she’ll brush her hair back, the rock on her left hand will catch in the light and he’ll remember.

She’s not his. Not that she’d ever approve of being thought of as _Ray’s_ , but Oliver knows he shouldn’t let his daydreams take up permanent residence in his head.

Once the trio has done a loop around the aquarium, and Oliver’s positive that William’s been shown every possible type of fish they house, they land at a small cafeteria and stop for a late lunch.

William’s a lot quieter over his sandwich, Oliver observes but doesn’t say anything. Not yet. He usually comes around.

And he does, after a final sip of his orange juice. “Felicity, can I ask you a question?”

Felicity, sensing the shift in mood, straightens up. “Yeah, buddy?”

“Is everything with Amelia going to be okay?”

Oliver looks to his friend in confusion. Her features soften as she purses her lips together, and he knows that look well enough to know that she’s trying to figure out how to sugar-coat something.

“We’re working on it,” she says carefully. “It’s going to take a lot of talking through and we had to get everyone’s parents involved.”

It’s not an answer, but Will nods anyway. “She’s my friend. I didn’t like what they were saying.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow, feeling strangely left out. “What’s this about Amelia…?”

Felicity turns to him, suddenly looking more weary than she had the entire day. “There’s an… incident of bullying between some of my students.” She explains quietly. “Fake Instagram account, bad edits, you know, same thing you and I dealt with at their age.” The out of place sarcasm isn’t lost on Oliver, and he makes a mental note to ask her about it once they get a chance alone.

“It’s all Justin Bowen.” William exclaims, drawing Oliver’s attention away from the blonde. “It was his idea, I know it.”

“Bowen?” Oliver leans back in his seat with a frown.

“Uh huh.” Will nods fiercely, “He was totally bragging about it after school on Friday, that he wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Felicity shifts in her seat uncomfortably, presumably wondering if they should even be talking about new details outside of school.

“Anyway,” she says carefully. “Everyone’s parents have been contacted, and we’ll be having a meeting with everyone to sort it soon.” She nods with finality.

William scoffs and takes a sip of his drink once more. “I _really hate_ Bowen.” He mutters, and Oliver can’t help but nod in response (though he of course has the Senior Bowen in mind), both crossing their arms and missing the way Felicity smiles at the action. 

The silence that falls on the group makes Oliver uncomfortable, noting how Felicity picks at her own plate with more stiffness. When Will gives them a little privacy to throw his trash away, Oliver moves quick.

“Felicity, is everything –“

“It’s not going to work.” She blurts, still looking down. Oliver’s not even entirely sure if she heard him. “For the kid. Amelia. The other parents are these enraged, privileged assholes, Oliver. And her mother, oh god, she just looks so tired and she’s clearly not in their league and I just have this awful feeling it’s not going to go well and I hate it.”

When she finally raises her eyes, Oliver’s devastated to see them shining under the fluorescent lights. “I hate it, Oliver, and I’m clearly _way_ out of my league here, I mean, I tell this poor girl everything’s going to be okay and it wont be and I’d feel so bad if I got her hopes up –“

“Hey, whoa.” Carefully, Oliver places a hand on hers. “Breathe.” He waits for her to take a few breaths before he continues. “First of all, whatever happens is not your fault, if it doesn’t go well that’s the fault of a broken system. You’re just trying to do what’s right. It’s what makes you …” he pauses, catching himself before he continues. “what makes you the Felicity Smoak I know so well.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but William comes back and expresses his fatigue, making both adults jump up and make their way towards the exit.

Oliver and Felicity have little to say as they walk, but luckily Will fills the silence. “Dad,” he says, “I know I said I was tired but can we make a stop at the mall before we go home? I need to get new pads for soccer. Coach Harper said the ones I have now aren’t going to work for the season.”

Oliver nods but then pauses. “Harper? Wasn’t your Coach Allen something?”

Will rolls his eyes. “That was my coach _last year_. I told you that before.”

Feeling caught by his son’s obvious disappointment, all Oliver can really say is, “oh.”

His son says nothing, only stalking towards where they parked and putting a little distance between him and his parent.

“Hey,” Felicity walks forward and gives Oliver’s shoulder a little jostle. “I can see you frowning but don’t go there, it’s an honest mistake.”

He remembers their previous conversation at the party and, for just one moment, allows himself to revel in how well she can read him.

He nods quickly, but notices the crease between her eyebrows is still there. “About before – are you going to be okay?”

She tugs on the sleeves of her sweater. “I will be. I’m just lucky I have you – and Iris.” She rolls her eyes and gestures over her shoulder.

“That’d be… your friend from last night?” he recalls vaguely someone was with her.

“Yeah, she took me out ‘cause I wasn’t in the best mood after the parents stuff from yesterday. We were talking and it got kind of heavy… and then I bumped into you.” She prods his shoulder.

“Heavy?” he pushes. Earlier he would have felt out of place but he thinks after today they’re at that place in each other’s lives where he can feel comfortable asking. The same place he used to be at once.

“Yeah,” he watches as an internal battle crosses over her face, before continuing, her voice more confident. “We were talking about… maybe, potentially, ifIcantalktoRayaboutit … me going back to school.” Most of it comes out as a rush with a hesitant smile to punctuate.

“Felicity, wow, that’s –“

“Insane, right?” she rolls her eyes, but she’s not unhappy. “It’s just an idea. But one that I’ve been thinking about for years.”

“No, not at all.” He says, his voice coming out fiercer than it probably has the right to be. “You should, absolutely –“

“Dad.” A cranky eight-year-old pulls Oliver out of what would have been an embarrassingly passionate speech and both Oliver and Felicity snap their heads forward. “Are we going?”

“Yeah, buddy, just a minute.” He turns back to Felicity and gestures towards his car. “You’re welcome to join us, if you want.”

She tilts her head to the side and smiles. “No, I should probably get going.”

“Right,” he tucks his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. “We kind of stole your whole Saturday, didn’t we?”

She shakes her head and smiles. “I didn’t mind.”

Before going their separate ways, Felicity demanded a hug from each of the Queen boys, offering a blinding, genuine smile and thanked them for showing her a good time.

Unbeknownst to her, she leaves both father and son watching her walk away, longing tugging in both of their chests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Felicity /finally/ takes the plunge. It’s all written and ready to go, so my posting depends on yall ;) 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Your feedback would mean the world to me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi. Once again thank you for the lovely words last week. I’m really glad you enjoyed the fluff because this one has… um… None. 
> 
> Some conversations are finally, finally had. Big things ahead. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Oliver’s words stay with her. They follow her on her way home, over a quiet dinner with Ray watching a documentary on Netflix.

Ultimately, she decides he’s right. Of course.

And it’s now or never to have this conversation. Because that’s all it’ll be – a conversation. The twisting in her gut when she tries to think about it tells her it’ll be more of a confrontation, but that’s ridiculous. They’re partners and Ray’s reasonable.

Unfortunately for her, the week doesn’t agree with her.

Her mental promise to tell Ray on the following Monday turns into Wednesday, until eventually shoved for the weekend, as the issue with Amelia and the Bowen kid spans over several early morning and after-school meetings.

It ends up being far more emotionally draining than she realized, as she watches the promise she made the young girl fall apart. Every day the last things she sees before bed is the exhausted eyes of her mother, the defeated look of Amelia in her classes avoiding the sneering gaze of her classmates ( _seriously,_ eight year olds have far more of a capacity of being cruel than she ever wanted to understand), and the frustrating crocodile tears of that damn Bowen kid.

Maybe its wrong to harbor strong resentment for a child (or at least is a testament to how terrible an educator she might be) but she can’t help it. That kid’s the worst.

The week that follows is no better, as the issue gets effectively swept under the rug, the students involved are let off with a warning, the damn Instagram account is deleted and everyone is expected to return as though nothing happened.

It frustrates Felicity to no end.

It also serves as a well-timed reminder how out of her element she’s been these past few months.

Iris, bless her, takes her out for drinks two nights that week and patiently listens to her long-winded rambles about losing hope. She spends her Thursday morning teaching only slightly hungover, but it’s worth it.

And from there, things just tumble.

The _bad weeks_ lead into the holidays, which in Starling City mean a handful of holiday parties for Ray and Felicity to attend, including the extravagant one by Palmer Tech. Christmas and Hanukkah are spent longingly talking to her mother on the phone and asking for a visit, a flurry of presents from her students (she may hate them, but private school parents certainly don’t cheap out), and barely a minute to breathe, let alone have a serious conversation about her future.

One issue after the other presents itself and gives Felicity time to stall just into the new year.

Iris glares at her over lunches every week, knowing as well as Felicity does that the application deadline for MIT is drawing closer than she’d like.

Eventually, it hits her one Friday on her way home from work, when she’s exhausted from the week and her forehead itches from an art class incident in last period.

(The paint they were working with got swiped on her forehead in an effort to move her hair away. She wasn’t sure why the kids were laughing so much until she went to the bathroom _after_ the period was done and she saw a huge green stripe on her head. Never again would she fill in for the art teacher. Never. Again.)

When she reaches home, she brings the mirror down to check her head again, just for any traces of paint, and of course finds none.

She pulls back and stares at the house in front of her. Pulling her seatbelt off, she can’t bring herself to leave the car right away.

Instead, she parks on the driveway and calls someone she knows would be able to help her.

“Hello?”

“I’m going to tell him.”

“What? Felicity? Tell who what?”

“I’m going to tell Ray, Oliver. About school.”

“Okay, slow down.” She thinks she can hear a door close in the background, and belatedly realizes he’s probably still at the office. “You _still_ haven’t told him? Felicity, it’s been weeks.”

She winces. “I know, I know. But things just got really crazy around the holidays.”

“I’ll say,” he almost grumbles. “I feel like I haven’t heard from you since Christmas. William still raves about his gifts, by the way.”

She smiles, remembering the effort it took to find the perfect remote control helicopter and book about aquatic animals she was sure the kid would like. She really regrets not having seen him (outside of school) or his father since that day. “I’m really sorry that we haven’t had time to hang out, but like I said things have been crazy. And I’ve been putting this thing off for so long.”

“Well I think it’s great, Felicity.”

“Yeah,” she sighs and looks to the door. Ray isn’t home yet but somehow, she can’t get herself inside. “but what if it isn’t?”

“What?”

“What if,” she runs a hand in her hair and lets it fall on her collarbone to fiddle with her necklace. “What if he freaks out and we have a big fight or something.”

On the other line, Oliver is silent for a few minutes. She can hear him thinking and she runs her fingers down her chain, waiting for him to say something.

“Felicity,” he says softly, “any man who knows your worth would be understanding and supportive. And Ray… should be just that. He should be nothing but supportive.”

“Okay,” she nods. “You’re right.”

“Good.”

“But what if you’re not,” she can hear him sigh but it doesn’t register, “and he freaks out because I’m springing this on him with _no_ warning, Oliver, and we just moved here and –“ she can feel her throat close up as she doesn’t stop speaking but apparently _does_ stop breathing.

“Felicity, Felicity, listen to me,” his voice is steady and she forces herself to take a deep breath. “It’s going to be fine. I promise you. Worse comes to worse, and I’m wrong, you call me if it isn’t fine, okay? You’re not in this alone.”

She nods, which is dumb because he can’t see her, but the words don’t come to her right away.

“Okay?” he prompts.

“Yeah,” she says quickly. “Yes. You’re right. Of course you are. Sorry I couldn’t say anything for a minute there, which I realize is uncharacteristic for me.”

He laughs on the other end.

“You know,” she leans back in her seat, feeling more like herself. “you’re getting pretty wise, Mr. Queen.”

His exasperated sigh makes her perfectly picture the way he would shake his head and try and fight a smile. “Goodbye, Felicity.”

“Bye, Oliver. And thank you, again.”

“Always.”

The problem with coming home before her fiancé is that now she’s left in their house with nothing but her nerves. The confidence boost she gets with her earlier phone call dwindles a bit as she flits around the empty space, nervously cleaning the counter, and rearranging her makeup drawer until she hears the keys turning and her heart rate picks up.

“Hey Ray,” she enters their living room just to see him loosening his tie and falling onto the couch.

He gives a smile in response and something unfamiliar twists in her gut.

“How was work?” Okay. Iris would say she’s stalling, but she can’t exactly spring this on him the minute he walks through the door.

“It was fine,” he shrugs off his suit jacket and launches into a story about an interview he had to do for a tech magazine.

She lets him talk as he walks around their home, heating up leftovers for dinner and over the meal, which she can only half-heartedly pick at for so long until he notices.

“Everything okay, Felicity? You aren’t eating.”

She looks up from her fork slowly. _Now or never, Smoak._ “Yeah, everything’s fine.” She offers a small smile and pushes her plate back. “but there is something I wanted to talk about.”

To his credit, Ray looks genuinely concerned at her words, his eyebrows furrowing as he nods for her to continue.

She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Instead, she pushes off the dinner table chair and makes her way upstairs.

When she comes back, she lays several brochures and two years’ worth of admissions guides on the table.

Immediately, his worried eyebrows go slack.

“Felicity,” he says lowly. When he looks up at her again, his eyes are not happy.

“I’ve always wanted to go back. You know this about me, I told you when we were dating. This was always on my mind, you know that.” Her voice is shaking, and she wishes to god it would just _stop_ but it can’t.

“Felicity,” he says carefully. She won’t sit down, so he stands up to meet her eyes. it’s probably nothing, just meant to look at her properly, but to Felicity it feels like he’s gearing up for something different.

“Look,” his voice is calm. “I understand, but it’s not the right time. I – I mean, you just moved here a few months ago and we’re _still_ working on settling in. Then we have everything at the company and we’re _getting married_ soon.”

“I know that,” The courage she built up is sinking, fast, but she persists “But this _is_ the right time. It’ll never be a better time, actually. Because there’s going to be the wedding and then soon we’ll be starting a family and –“

“Family?” Okay, this time his voice is less collected. “Felicity, that’s _years_ down the road.” His hand flies out to emphasize his point. “If at all.”

That makes her pause. “What? At _all_?” for a moment – so fast Felicity would forget about it later – her mind flashes to Oliver and William. She can’t _not_ have that.

He pauses, drawing his hands back. “I thought we were on the same page about that.”

She shakes her head. “I guess not.”

He doesn’t say anything and she shifts on her feet.

“Ray,” She pushes forward. _That_ is an issue, but it’s a conversation that could be tabled for another time. “I can’t keep going like this. The teaching thing it’s – it’s –“

“Okay, fine,” he jumps in, arms up in surrender, “you can quit the school if you want. I was just trying to do a nice thing by asking a friend to get you a job but you’re not bound to it.”

She nods.

“Nice thing. Right. Something that’s completely out of my wheelhouse and that you know I have no interest in.”

He says nothing.

“Ray,” she laughs without any humor, because her frustration is starting to mount and she doesn’t want to start yelling. “We met, and we _bonded_ over technology. Computer science. I don’t understand why this is a surprise to you, you know where my passion lies. You _live_ it every day, and you never once thought to consider that it’s been something I want to come back to?”

“Felicity,” it comes out a whisper. And she hates it.

Epiphanies should be freeing. They should make the weight on your shoulders disappear. They should feel like the clouds part and the light shines down directly on whatever it is you needed or whatever other cliché there is out there.

This one does not.

“Ray, I’m not happy. And,” she takes a breath _._ “it’s not just the about the job.”

His shoulders sink slowly as he nods.

 “So where does that leave us?”

* * *

 

Oliver’s spending a Friday night in, his parents away on a conference and not enjoying their weekly sleepover with William. Instead, the kid sits in their living room watching an old movie on TV.

It’s not been the best week. Meetings have kept him busy and away from home and what Felicity once called his _dad guilt_ would eat away at him every time he would come home to find his son already in bed.

That has him over a stove making the best mac and cheese he can for his kid – not the boxed kind, because he’s a perfectionist and damn it if this kid doesn’t deserve something half decent from him.

It’s just the two of them, which is rare, but Thea offered to come over and Oliver made the executive decision that they needed to have bonding time on their own.

He’s given only a moment to settle in and give Will his plate before his phone buzzes on the table.

Normally he would ignore it (usually a phone call at this hour would be work related and earn a barely concealed sigh from his son), but when he sees the name that lights up the screen he picks it up immediately and walks into the hallway.

“Felicity, hey –“

“Oliver,” Her voice sounds fuzzy, like she’s driving and has the phone on speaker. “That offer still stand?”

“What?”

“When we talked earlier, you said – worse comes to worse I can call you, right?” She sounds unlike herself, and it freaks Oliver out.

 “Yeah, of course but – Felicity? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Great. I’ll be there soon.” She hangs up without elaborating further, and it only makes his anxiety grow.

When he answers the knock on his door ten minutes later (he may or may not have been hovering there after the call), he finds Felicity standing on the other side with an oversized bag awkwardly slung on her arm. She’s in only a hoodie, and her nose is tipped red from either the cold or whatever has her eyes rimmed the same shade.

She shrugs. “Sorry,” her voice is small. Tired. “I know how much you hate being wrong.”

He opens the door wider and lets her in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there it is. Hopefully you thought it worked.
> 
> Next chapter: Oliver and Felicity break down what happened. And what it means going forward.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> twitter - @smoakoverwatch  
> tumblr - overwatchandarrow


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